


Destination: Unknown

by shadhahvar



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Ballet, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Choreographer Victor Nikiforov, Dancer Katsuki Yuuri, Dancer Victor Nikiforov, Everyone Drives a Hovercar, Gen, On the Run, Viktor Drives a Hovercar, Yuuri Who Are You Really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 10:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12340476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadhahvar/pseuds/shadhahvar
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov, hovercab driver and part time cook, ends up with an odd fare early one morning: a young man who jumps into his passenger seat with a backpack and a request for him todrive.Viktor complies.  A police chase ensues, leading to an escape into the lowest levels of the city, hiding in the smog-bound sections while contemplating things like garbage!In which Yuuri cannot remember the last three days or why he's on the run from the police, but in leaving messages for himself, he's racing against an unknown to figure out what's going on before he ends up jailed - or worse.  Viktor is the collateral damage collected along the way.This is nonsense out of the prompt "You were chased by the cops, got in my car, and said, “Drive!” AU!"





	Destination: Unknown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ankari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ankari/gifts).



Viktor heard the passenger side door open as he was fiddling with his phone GPS, blinking and staring at the man who slid into the seat next to him. Messy black hair and a blue backpack were a flash of an impression before he heard what the man was saying, a half-gasped demand. “ _Drive!”_

To his own surprise, Viktor complied without pausing to think, a surge of adrenaline accompanying his merge into the flow of traffic. A glance in his rear view mirror caught people running along the high-rise pull-out behind them, the flash of their uniforms registering in the back of his mind. _Law enforcement._

“Good morning to you, too.” When that provoked no response, he went on to add, “Most passengers tend to get into the back.” The man sitting next to him had craned around to squint out the window at them as they left the building behind, one hand curling around the harness that had automatically buckled him in. There was little doubt in Viktor’s mind that his passenger and the law enforcement officers were tied together through one means or another.

He was trying to decide how much trouble he was going to be in when his passenger startled, reacting late to Viktor’s words. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound particularly sorry. He sounded distracted and worried. Turning to face Viktor, the man held his backpack close, hugging it to his chest. “I can get in the back if you prefer?”

Viktor didn’t have a chance to respond before the man started to try and unbuckle from the safety harness. It was ludicrous to crawl over the narrow space of the console to get into the back seats; Viktor reached out, waving his hand to stop him. 

“No, no, it’s fine! Stay where you are.” He shook his head, bringing his hand back to the wheel. “Should I be expecting the people chasing after you to keep pursuing?”

The man craned his head back around to look through the side windows. Fruitless with how they were already blocks away if he’d wanted to check, the car fast approaching one of the major intersections through the business center of the city. “I, well.” He swallowed. “Probably?”

“Right.” Viktor signaled and dropped down into the lower level of the throughway, already considering the best way to get lost in the natural flow of city traffic. “So where are we headed?”

The man sitting in his passenger seat hugged his backpack close, turning his head to face Viktor head-on.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I have absolutely no idea.”

Viktor turned a wide eyed look of surprise the other man’s way before he burst out laughing. This was not only absurd, but also ridiculous. “Okay then. Half the surprise will be finding that one out together, won’t it?”

* * *

_Finding that one out together_ ended up including Viktor getting back on the freeway heading the opposite direction, sticking with the heavy flow of traffic going at speed. It also included Viktor telling the stranger to pull out his tablet from the center console to read whatever was on his flash drive. 

The adrenaline had already worn off with no immediate chase, Viktor almost able to convince himself that the uniforms he’d seen might have belonged to building security. 

“... that makes no sense.”

Viktor flicked his gaze toward his passenger, blinking as he realised he was thinking of the stranger in those terms. His passenger, dark haired man, backpack-hugger. A series of immediate descriptions, none of them particularly useful. “That we haven’t been introduced yet? You’re right, it doesn’t make any sense at all.”

Brow furrowed, his passenger looked up from the screen held close to his face, shaking his head. “No, I mean what’s on this file. It’s a text document, but it only says… Oh.” He stopped himself, letting the tablet rest fully in his lap. Viktor couldn’t quite tell, but it looked like he was blushing. “Yuuri. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

As far as statements went, that was patently far from the truth and so hilariously route VIktor could tell Yuuri hadn’t even thought about what he was saying before saying it. Still, it had the benefit of curling his lips up into a genuine smile. “Viktor. Surprising to meet you, too, Yuuri.” Holding on to the first vowel to draw out the sound, eyes back on the road and scanning up ahead. “Now what was it your text document said?”

“Ah, right, it says… I need to get to the City Centre Ballet Company. Didn’t that move out of the city five years ago?”

Viktor found the smile from a moment before fading. “Not moved, shut down. You’re in luck, though. We know where we’re going!”

Yuuri pursed his lips, squinting down at the borrowed screen and it’s relatively useless line of information. He wanted to understand what the hell was going on, which is why he knew he’d go: to try and understand why he couldn’t remember the last three days, why he’d woken up in a motel room and found himself chased by law enforcement. Sirens sounded in the distance; he stiffened, looking around. Where were they? Why were they after _him_?

A question he needed to have answered before he ended up jailed and still as ignorant, being told by all those meant to defend the public that ignorance in and of itself was not a defense.

“Yeah. We do.” He glanced at Viktor’s GPS, gesturing toward it. “Did you want me to…?”

“Hm?” Viktor paused, lifting his hand to offer a dismissive wave. “No need. I know the way.” At a flash of red and blue in his sideview mirror, Viktor grinned, reaching over to switch his car into full manual mode. “I used to dance there before it closed. Hold on, I’m taking us down the fast way!”

“You used to whaaAAAAAAH?!” Yuuri found himself shouting as the car dropped like a stone, Viktor flipping the car onto its side to cut between the lines of hovertraffic. The police cars in pursuit tried to cut outside the traffic lanes, delayed as their sirens blared and Viktor’s car was swallowed by the layer of smog hugging the lower reaches of the city buildings.

Voices rained down from overhead, declaring his passenger a fugitive of the law, saying he would be cleared of all charges if he stopped now to turn him over. Viktor ignored the chatter, righting the car as Yuuri shrieked something Viktor didn’t exactly _hear_ so much as _experience_. The car’s engine and hover-ducts whined in protest as it was righted, the stomach-dropping feeling continuing even as it regained altitude. Switching on his fog lights, Viktor downshifted and swung the car around, angling for the ground as he picked up speed and started racing away.

Yuuri was holding onto the handlebar over the door as well as bracing himself against the floor of the car, his other arm wrapped around his backpack. The tablet was caught between his chest and the pack; he almost felt like it’d serve Viktor right if it’d gone flying, but Viktor wasn’t actually the one putting anyone on the spot. Bizarrely, that was Yuuri.

If anything, he felt grateful that a relative stranger (now that they’d been introduced) was helping him on faith and for no apparent reward. It would have been more unnerving if the larger reality wasn’t looming in flashing lights and a punishment that Yuuri couldn’t say did or didn’t fit the crime, whatever that crime was in the first place. 

Viktor seemed to enjoy himself, cutting past and around the other cars that’d sunk down to this level, shady deals and thrillseekers and down on their luck people mingling in the heavy air. Whatever trick of geography and technology trapped the low-hanging smog kept the upper skies beautiful, but they made for a harrowing reality for those standing below their invisible ceiling. Sirens still called in the distance, lights catching up with them as Viktor cut a corner and killed his lights, hitting the back thrusters hard and spinning his front right out to the side. A short burst had them go from hovering nose-down in the street to sliding sideways into a narrow alleyway. Viktor cut the engine as he brought them down, looming shapes of trash and building detritus surrounding them on two sides.

“What are you doing?!”

Viktor kept his hands on the wheel, watching the street. “Waiting.”

Waiting sounded like the worst kind of idea to Yuuri, who found himself staring in the same direction as Viktor. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see anything clearly without corrective lenses. He still had to _look_. “They’re going to find us. Aren’t you supposed to keep running?”

“They’re the ones following, Yuuri. The real question is if I’m good enough that they’ll accept my lead without thinking about it… and with only two squad cars, in this part of the city?” He tapped a finger against the driver’s wheel. “I’d say the odds are in our favour.”

Yuuri lapsed into silence, feeling miserable as the harness held him in place. Staring out into the dark alley and trying to pick out familiar shapes in the trash he could see littering the ground. Broken bottles were probably the glittering things that caught the scant light. Unless they were cans. Was that defined lumpy thing just a trash bag, or was it an inexplicably transplanted hedge? He just didn’t know.

As the minutes ticked past, Yuuri felt increasingly more tense. He started focusing on his breathing, reasoning with himself that in spite of the fact they were most certainly about to be caught, it would probably be fine. It was probably all a misunderstanding. He’d probably go to jail for the rest of his life and every prospect and dream he had would be ruined. Yes, that was probably going to happen. His breathing, as a consequence, was not growing any more regular.

He stopped breathing altogether when the sirens wailed from close by, lights piercing through the smog. Whining engines blared past not a minute later, sounding louder than reality as they flew past the mouth of the alleyway. 

It took Viktor turning his way and reaching out to touch his shoulder to remind Yuuri to breathe again, exhaling in a loud rush and panting for a while before he started laughing, Viktor pausing before breathing out in a soft laugh of his own.

“Let’s get going.” Viktor found the laughter easier to live with than the breathing that’d gotten closer and closer to hyperventilation. Not that he could blame Yuuri in present circumstances, but he certainly didn’t know what to do past solving the immediate problem of getting Yuuri where he wanted to go.

Edging the car back out of the alley went more smoothly than even Viktor anticipated. He kept his lights off and coasted in a slower, indirect way around, only bringing lights back on when they could no longer hear sirens in the distance. At these speeds, they fit into the traffic and flow of people through the better populated sections of the undercity, people intent on their lives and transactions, noting their passing, forgetting not long after. The normal sort of ebb and flow.

Viktor was thankful for it as he parked the car, settling it gently down onto the pavement. Yuuri seemed even more preoccupied, the tension back in his shoulders again. He’d put Viktor’s tablet back into the glove compartment; Viktor leaned over and fished it back out once Yuuri was out of the car.

That he joined him on the sidewalk seemed almost a foregone conclusion. Viktor was fairly sure he could plead to all of this as being performed under duress, which the company he worked under might or might not back up (probably would, since it’d be a better spin than having an employee go rogue), but he also wanted to know why the hell any of this had been happening.

Why to the City Centre Ballet Company, of all things?

Yuuri asked the same thing, squinting as he looked down the street. “Why here?”

“Suspicious of something?”

“Huh?” Blinking, Yuuri pulled his head back, now squinting as he looked over at Viktor. “Suspicious of everything, a little, yeah. I guess. Aren’t you? I mean, your day has only been somewhat better than mine, and… that’s actually all my fault.” He sighed, rubbing one hand over his face. “I promise, I’ll pay you back everything on the fare and then some. Thank you so much for everything!” 

Yuuri dropped down into a bow, hands at his sides, backpack hiking up to hit the back of his head as he bent at the waist. He straightened, giving Viktor a look of determination. “I don’t want to get you any more involved than you are now. You’ll… you should be able to stay out of trouble? Right now, use me as the excuse for what’s happened, and tell them everything you know.”

Movies at least made that seem plausible. For once, life could follow the same logic. 

Resolute, he turned and started walking down the street. At his back, Viktor watched in somewhat stunned silence. When he cupped a hand around his mouth to call out to Yuuri’s retreating back, Viktor also found it difficult not to laugh. Absurdity upon absurdity.

“Yuuuuri! You’re going the wrong way!”

Yuuri paused, spinning back around to squint at Viktor, then beyond him. It clicked, just like that: the squinting wasn’t just nerves. 

Yuuri clearly didn’t feel a need to point out his own less than perfect vision. Viktor debated it before giving a shrug of his shoulders, gesturing up the road in the other direction. “I’ll see you to the front of the building, just in case. Then you can go start the next part of this mad scavenger hunt.”

Yuuri grimaced, accepting Viktor’s continued presence with something like tolerance. It was more distraction and a blooming headache from the high emotions he’d been feeling since that morning, paired with an eye strain headache. All this excitement before noon was stomach turning.

Still, in the bizarre landscape that Yuuri’s life had become, going forward was the only way of possibly finding answers. It was surreal enough before he also had a cab driver walking him up to the hulking building that had once been lit up with performances that drew in people from across the world. Hardly the dancer’s faults that the whole had gone bankrupt then been written off as unmanageable for city convenience.

“Why didn’t you go to one of the other companies when City Centre Ballet Company went under?”

Viktor hummed, more interested that Yuuri had remembered his offhand remark before dropping them both out of the sky than the question itself. “No inspiration,” he said, as if that was really an answer. The honest ones were more complicated for him, difficult for him to frame with words. _I lost my reason to try. I didn’t know how to find it again._ “Did you ever go to any of the shows while they were still running?”

“Mm, yes. Two in person.” Yuuri frowned, squinting at the front of the building they stood before. The awning and its beautifully carved facade, now grungy and cracked, parts torn off and missing. Even with his world an unpleasant blur he could see the way time and people had already started wearing down on this place, like so many others.

What he didn’t see was what the hell he was supposed to be doing here. If all this was a dead end, then he might as well have turned himself in and ignored his own note. Things were going to be so much worse _now_ , when he was a confirmed flight risk. What would that charge be? Obstruction of justice? No, probably something about evasion.

“Which shows?”

He glanced over to Viktor, fingers curling around the straps of his backpack. “ _Swan Lake_ and their last production of _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_.”

Viktor opened his mouth as if to say something about that, then hesitated. That’d been his last performance as well, but if he hadn’t stood out as Oberon in anyone’s memory… talk about an unpleasant surprise. What an affront to an ego he’d thought he’d learned to tolerate being heavily punctured over the last five years.

It was amusing, and irritating, to realise he wasn’t immune to it like he’d believed.

“ _Swan Lake_ is one of those classics.” 

An easy side-step, since it was still considered a classic performance, and a topic they were spared from having to discuss as a shadow detached itself from the front entrance. The distinct, clear tapping of heels across the tile and concrete drew their attention. The woman who stepped into the thin light was subtly dressed, wrapped in a warm coat, hair half pulled back off her face. She seemed surprised to see Viktor, eyes narrowing before she placed the bulk of her attention on Yuuri, smiling.

“Yuuri! You brought _Viktor_ with you?”

“Minako-sensei!” Yuuri straightened up, smiling briefly. A familiar voice and a familiar face did wonders for giving him any sense of ease; followed by confusion and a different sort of unease. “You know Viktor?”

“Viktor Nikiforov?” There was an edge of disbelief to her tone of voice that didn’t quite make sense to Viktor, though he smiled automatically, lifting a hand to wave. It was a petty little balm to his ego that _someone_ recognised him, even if in doing so she seemed to imply that Yuuri should recognise him as well.

“Cab driver and part-time cook.” He held out his hand to Minako, finding her grip as firm as his own when they shook. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Minako.”

“Minako will be fine, Viktor.” She beamed at him for a moment, expression smoothing into seriousness as she took a step back. “Though if you’re here and this fool didn’t know who you were, then we’re in bigger trouble than I thought.” While she sighed, frowning, Yuuri was having his own internal crisis.

Including how he could possibly not have recognised Viktor Nikiforov, despite the fact he’d rarely if ever heard the man speak, when most his interviews were on paper, not live. Not _in front of him._ Not in _touching distance_ , or as Yuuri took a step forward and leaned in to stare, wide-eyed, in _no-glasses on looking distance!_

By the time Yuuri’s brain had caught back up with the conversation Minako was having with Viktor, he wasn’t sure if he was imagining the topic on hand.

“Are you asking if I can help choreograph a burlesque show?” Viktor didn’t know whether to feel flattered or just confused. 

“Yes. In three days, to be exact.”

“No!” Yuuri threw his hands up. “I have no idea what’s going on, but that’s impossible! _Why_ are you saying I need a burlesque show, _why_ did I wake up this morning with no memory of the last three days, and _why are the police after me?!_ ”

Minako had the good grace to lay a hand on his shoulder, holding him steady as she replied. “I don’t know all the details. All I know is what you contacted me with two days ago.” She pulled on the chain of her necklace, fishing out a set of rings and a flashdrive. Slipping it all off over her head, threading her hair out of the golden chain, she held the whole out to Yuuri. “You asked me to either step in as your choreographer or find one for you. You did yourself one better, Yuuri. The travel information’s on this. I’ve got your card passes; I can get you to the train station. Beyond that, all you said was that you had to make it to the spaceport in Oust for the next Lunar Cruise.”

“I _purposefully_ planned to go to space? What _happened_ in those three days?” Minako studied his face for a moment before looking away, leaving his question unanswered.

A fact that neither man managed to overlook. Viktor filed it away alongside several other assumptions: like the one where he’d be helping this increasingly more insane course of action progress on behalf of a relative stranger.

_A stranger who was supposed to know my name._ He shook his head, shaking off the thought. It wasn’t important. His ability to claim he was coerced into cooperating with a known criminal (known for what, who knew, but _known_ ) 

“You do realise I’ve never done anything with that kind of performative theatre before, right?” Viktor glanced between Minako and Yuuri, wondering just who the hell either one of them were. Yuuri danced, apparently? Minako had recognised his face, and presumably, some part of his career. Yuuri hadn’t.

“You realise I never have either?”

Minako flashed a smile at them both that was equal parts teeth and amusement. “Then I’d get to studying. The InterGalactic web is a fantastic resource. Now, _let’s go!_ We don’t have time to stand around debating the details!”

“Unless we want to get arrested.”

Yuuri grimaced, shoulders hunching in at this return to the original threat of his morning all over again. “Viktor, you don’t need to be involved in this. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I don’t need to take you down along with me. I can… Minako-sensei, didn’t you just say I asked _you_ to handle the choreography?” He half spun toward her, marching after her with Viktor hesitating watching them both leave.

There were sayings for things like this. How did any of them go?

He moved forward, following Yuuri with his blue backpack and his missing three days and the mystery that spun out from that blank space in his mind.

Ah, that was right. In for a penny, he supposed, in for a pound.

He’d just have to make sure it was worth it.

“Oh! Yuuri! Can we pick up my dog before we leave?”

Really, _really_ worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> I, uh. So that happened. Did I know how to end this. (No, but I'm laughing at myself about it!) Very loosely inspired by _The Fifth Element_. Very, very loosely.


End file.
